these mad windows
by MahliaLily
Summary: Jess's life didn't end when Rory said 'no.' It just changed. Jess-Other
1. swallow my heart

**these**** mad windows**

**chapter**** 1: swallow my heart**

**_Disclaimer_**_: I do not own Jess. Heh. Lovely thought though. I do, however, own some of these characters and some of the plots. So, you know, feel free to call me Pseudo-ASP. (giggle)_

**_A/N_**_: This is a new story. Hopefully, I will continue it and not get discouraged. It is a 'post-Rory' Jess fic. That means that you shouldn't expect Lit happiness and Lit love and all that stuff. I know, I know; it pains me too. But, frankly, I think our little Jess deserves more than Rory can offer, and I think he has stories of his own to tell. So let's all give him a chance, okay? (wink) Thanks to everyone who encouraged me on this fic (**Marissa**, **Lee**, **Mai**, and most of all, **Elise** and **Lia**). I love you all. And, of course, thanks to **Sarah** for being my sister. She didn't have much of a choice, but she does it well nonetheless. Oh, and review please. I need to know what you think of this new venture. -Becka_

It had been five months.

The air was chilly. The leaves had turned from green into a yellow-red-orange palette of colors and were now dangling and dropping one-by-one from the trees. When he walked down the street, he actually needed the leather jacket he'd stubbornly insisted on wearing through the warmer seasons. He pulled it close and walked faster, refusing to see the small, vaporous cloud his breath was producing. It hadn't been that long.

But it had.

As much as he wanted to deny it, time was passing, and the thundering reverberation of her words on his ears was beginning to fade.

She was beginning to fade.

As this thought of her passed through his mind, he hardly felt a twinge. Maybe just the faintest of tugs somewhere deep inside. Today, only a small part of him still cared. Forgetting was a personal choice, and she was growing faint. He was letting her.

-

"There you are, you asshole," his roommate greeted him as soon as he walked through the door. 

Jess glanced at him irritably out of the corner of his eye and took off his coat.

"Your goddamn phone has been ringing for the past three hours!"

Jess smirked. "I've only been gone two," he stated. "And here I thought we'd finally gotten that counting thing figured out."

"Fuck you," Todd shot back. "I was trying to sleep."

Jess walked over to his cell phone and held it up for Todd to see. "Off," he said, holding down the tiny bottom at the top. The cell phone went dark. "On," he continued, turning it back on. "Funny how that works."

"You threatened to kick my ass next time I touched your property," Todd reminded him.

"Guess it's a no-win then."

"Turn off your fucking cell phone before you leave next time."

"Put a fucking pillow over your head," Jess answered, hurling one at his roommate before heading towards the bathroom.

"Next time, I'm gonna answer that piece of shit!" Todd called after him. "And tell whoever it is to go fuc—"

Jess slammed the door, cutting him off.

"Jesus Christ," he muttered, running a hand through his hair. Sitting on the closed toilet seat, he scanned through the calls he'd missed. Liz. Luke. Liz. Liz. Liz. Work. Liz.

Sighing, he held the phone to his ear.

"Hi Baby. It's your mom. Just checking in to see how you're doing. I haven't heard from you in weeks. Are you alive? You'd tell me if you weren't, right?" She paused as if expecting an answer. "All right. I love you. Call me, dead or alive. TJ says hi."

-beep-

"Jess. This is your mom again. What good is a cell phone if you don't carry it with you?"

-beep-

"You are carrying it, aren't you? I thought we were good. I love you. You love me. Happy family," she paused again. "We're good, right? Because I'm starting to feel l—"

Lowering the phone from his ear, Jess pushed a button, and his mother's voice disappeared. He deleted all of the messages. Luke hadn't left one, and he couldn't care less what work wanted, since he'd obviously already missed the delivery. He shoved the phone into his pocket and looked in the mirror.

He looked exhausted. When the hell had that happened? He turned on the faucet and ran his hands under the water, splashing it up onto his face occasionally in an effort to wake himself up.

His phone rang, and he looked towards the mirror again, glaring at his reflection. Then, with a deep sigh, he pulled the phone out and looked at it. Work.

_Shit_.

"Mariano," he answered, starting out of the bathroom and towards the front door before his boss had time to reply.

"Kill that fucking phone, Jess," Todd called out as he walked by. "Or I kill you."

Grabbing his coat off the floor, Jess left, letting the door slam shut behind him.

-

As far as bosses went, Mr. Brazer made Luke look like a saint. While Jess unlocked his car and slid inside, the man reamed him for missing the earlier call. Some crap about how none of the other messengers had been available, and he was sick and tired of Jess's blasé attitude. Jess fought to bite his tongue, as both he and Mr. Brazer knew for a fact that this was only the second call he'd missed during his entire yearlong employment. While choice responses played through Jess's head, he forced an apology. He needed the job, whether he liked it or not.

"One more fuck-up and you're fired, Mariano, do you understand me?"

Jess's jaw clenched. "Yeah."

"I don't need your self-satisfied, condescending brand of riff-raff around here."

Jess smirked, imagining the conversation he'd currently be having with Luke if his uncle had still been his boss and he'd used the word riff-raff during a lecture.

"I got it," Jess said instead.

Luke wasn't his boss anymore. That wasn't his life. This new-and-improved life involved poor pay, no benefits, and Satan's version of Taylor Doose.

"Where's the package?" he asked, needing Brazer to get to the point before he pushed too far and forced Jess to retrieve the package and shove it somewhere it didn't belong and probably wouldn't fit.

"Oh, _now_ you wanna do your job?" Brazer asked sarcastically.

Jess didn't respond.

"Fourth and seventh," Brazer spat. "And make it snappy; these people don't have all day." The phone disconnected.

Jess stared out his windshield for a second, fighting down the irritation that always bubbled up after their conversations. Then, throwing the phone on the passenger seat, he turned on the engine and started towards his destination.

By the third red light, Jess knew the trip was going to be long and irritating. He flicked on the radio, then, eyeing the phone beside him, he immediately turned it back off.

Steering with one hand, he reached over and grabbed the phone. The speed-dial raced through the numbers, and moments later, the other end picked up.

"Yeah?"

For reasons he didn't understand and maybe never would, Jess relaxed.

"Hey Luke."

-

It hadn't been a long conversation, but it had been enough. After they'd hung up, Jess was able to focus on the job, and, as if by agreement, the traffic started behaving.

The sun had been setting when he'd left, and the lights of the city were now taking over. Jess locked his door and headed towards the entrance. It was an art gallery.

It was quiet inside the building, except for the clicking of a keyboard coming from around the corner. Jess walked down the hall, looking with half-interest at the paintings along the walls. They weren't particularly exciting. Nothing you couldn't see at any dentist's or doctor's office.

He rounded the corner and approached the receptionist's desk a few feet away. He stopped in front of it and waited, but the receptionist just kept typing away.

"I'm here for the delivery," he said impatiently, wanting this job to be over so he could go to sleep.

"One second," the girl responded. Her eyes remained focused on the screen. "I'm… almost…" she said, typing as she talked. "…finished. There," she stated, her hand moving over the last key with an exaggerated flourish. Her gaze shot up to him, and immediately, she smiled.

Jess looked at her blankly and waited.

"Hi," she greeted.

"I'm here to pick up a package," Jess repeated.

She nodded. "Right."

He watched as she bent down to reach under the desk. He heard a couple of thumps and then the sound of something falling to the ground. After a mumbled curse, she reappeared.

"Here you go," she stated, setting a large, rectangular box on the counter. "It's a sculpture."

"Interesting," Jess said flatly. He pulled a notebook out of his back pocket and held it out to her. "Sign here."

She took the notebook from his hand and scribbled her name. Then, she looked back up at him. "I think I broke it," she said, eyeing the box without a hint of embarrassment.

"Huh." He reached out for the pad.

"Any chance you'll take the blame?" she asked, handing it over.

Jess shook his head. "Nope."

"Right," she nodded, pursing her lips. Then, she shrugged. "I hate the artist anyway. I'll take it."

He smirked. "Always best to make it seem like a choice." He picked up the package and started to turn.

"Oh," she exclaimed, drawing his attention back. "I forgot the tip. I'm new at this," she explained, reaching into her desk drawer.

He waited.

A second later, she straightened, a few bills in her hand. "What's your name?" she said abruptly.

"Excuse me?" he asked, surprised.

"Your name," she repeated.

"You aren't blaming me."

She smiled. "Oh, no, I know. Just curious."

"Jess," he said before he could stop himself.

"Eva," she quickly replied.

Jess nodded and, for the first time, actually looked at her. Without the usual veil of disinterest and disregard, that is. She was young. Same age as him, give or take a few years. Her hair was dark brown, so dark it almost looked black, and it was cut into short, choppy layers that fell just below her ears. Brown eyes, skin a shade tanner than most. Cute. She was definitely cute.

"Always nice to learn the name of someone you'll never meet again," he replied. "Not at all pointless."

"And he loses the tip," she said with feigned sympathy as she dropped the bills back on her desk.

"Whatever," Jess shrugged. He started back in the direction of the entrance.

"Hey Jess," she called after he made it a few feet.

He turned.

"Nice package," she commented, her gaze trained on the box in his hands. She met his eyes. "Sorry, I just always wanted to say that to one of the messengers. You seemed just irritable enough."

He shook his head and began walking again. He could feel her wide grin burning through his back as she watched him go.

As he turned the corner and proceeded out into the New York night air, he realized he was smiling too.


	2. shot through the head

**these mad windows**

**chapter**** 2: shot through the head**

**_Disclaimer:_**_ Same old, same old. I am Amy Sherman-Palladino. Oh wait? That's new, isn't it?_

**_A/N_**_: Yes, another update. Yes, it's only been a day. I'm trying to suck you all in. Don't get used to it. Bwa-ha-ha! Thanks to **Lee** for being my fantabulous beta and to my sister for always giving it to me straight, whether I like it or not. Grr… -Becka_

The next morning, Jess awoke to the tinkling melody of 'Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.' But this wasn't just any rendition; this was possibly the most obnoxious version ever recorded. A smirk formed on Jess's face as he waited. Three, two, o—

"Jesus H. Christ, Mariano," Todd boomed, grabbing the cell phone from beside his head and chucking it in Jess's direction. "I'm seriously gonna fucking kill you."

The phone smacked against the floor, and they both heard a small cracking sound.

Jess sat up. "Did you just break my fucking phone?" he accused, picking it up.

"I fucking hope so, you prick."

Jess stood and made an exaggerated point of examining the phone. "Oh, never mind," he said nonchalantly, tossing it on Todd's mattress. "This one's yours."

Todd jerked up and grabbed the phone. His eyes blazed. "You mother-fucking asshole," he roared, leaping to his feet and rushing towards Jess.

Jess dodged out of the way. "Good to see those anger management classes are doing their job."

"Where the hell do you get off messing with my phone?"

"You never fucking get up," Jess reminded him, over-enunciating each word. "And then you give me shit when you miss work."

Todd looked down at the phone again and tried to turn it on. "You fucking broke it."

"Actually, you broke it," Jess stated as he bent over to retrieve some clothes from the pile on the floor. Todd shoved him from behind, but Jess maintained his balance. He turned to face his roommate, staring up the couple of inches into his eyes. "You want me to fucking kick your ass again?" Jess asked. "I could use the exercise."

Todd backed up slightly. The advantage he had in height was seriously impaired by his physical fitness. "I want you the fuck out of here," he stated.

Jess clenched his jaw. It was about time. They'd met at the messenger office eleven months ago. Todd had needed a roommate; Jess had needed somewhere to stay other than a crappy motel room. It took four months before they hated each other, and for the past seven, Jess had been trying to get Todd to kick him out so the asshole couldn't Judge Judy him for rent unpaid. "You want me to leave?" Jess asked, feigning anger.

"Yeah, I do. I want you to take your fucking shit and your fucking phone and your fucking mama's boy books and get the hell out of my face."

Jess looked up at him and nodded. "Done," he said simply. Without another word, he turned, dug out his duffel bag, and started shoving his belongings into it.

Todd watched him, wide-eyed. "You're leaving?" he asked.

Jess shook his head, smiling slightly. "You kicked me out, moron. Don't act all offended."

"Where are you gonna stay? A fucking youth shelter?"

"What the hell do you care?" Jess asked, moving around to grab some more stuff.

"I don't," Todd lied, throwing his phone onto a mattress. "Actually, I don't fucking care at all." A moment later, the bathroom door slammed shut.

Jess glanced up at the closed door briefly, nodded, and finished packing. Ten minutes later, he was gone, leaving only the key behind.

-

Once outside, he shoved his bag into the backseat of the car and then walked around to get in. Immediately, he leaned over and flicked open the glove compartment, pulling out a sheet of paper. Grabbing his cell phone from his jacket pocket, he dialed. After a brief conversation, he started the car and headed towards his new home.

The landlord was waiting outside when he arrived. She was an older woman, the grandmotherly type, someone who probably shouldn't be managing apartments in a city like New York. But her sweet attitude prevented most people from taking advantage of her. Back when Jess had decided that getting kicked out of Todd's was best for his sanity, he'd also realized he'd need a contingency plan. He certainly couldn't predict when he'd push Todd over the edge. In between courier calls, he'd visited various apartments. Ms. Shafer was the only one willing to hold one for him until the time was right.

She smiled widely at him as he retrieved his bag. "It's about time."

He gave her a knowing look. "You're telling me."

She frowned. "You look like shit." Once a New Yorker, always a New Yorker.

He smirked. "Thanks."

"You do," she repeated, unlocking the entrance. "Do you ever sleep?"

Jess didn't answer; he just followed her inside.

-

It was a studio apartment. Nothing fancy. Over the past months, he'd been able to save money, and Luke had helped by sending him some cash whenever he could come up with an appropriate government-sponsored holiday. The first time, around the Fourth of July, Jess had sent it back. Days later, the envelope was among his mail again. Jess sent it back. After three attempts, Jess gave in and kept it. But there were always bills to pay, and with only a courier's wage, it was hard to save much. He'd barely squeak by without a roommate.

"My daughter had an extra couch," Ms. Shafer was explaining. "I thought you could use it. I'm loaning you an inflatable mattress until you can get your own."

Jess looked around the room and then at her. "Thanks," he said hesitantly, knowing he owed this woman big time and not particularly liking that fact.

"Unfortunately, that's all the furniture I could manage, but I'll keep an eye on the neighbor's trash. People throw out some nice things."

"Thanks," he repeated.

She smiled.

He walked over and dropped his bag on the mattress.

"Oh," Ms. Shafer added. "There's also some chicken salad in the fridge."

Jess sighed, wishing she hadn't gone to so much trouble.

Picking up on it, she glanced at him. "Look at me. I'm a tiny thing. I eat like a bird. It would've gone to waste."

He nodded, struggling for something to say. He wasn't good at this. After a beat, he spoke. "I'm good with appliances. If you ever need anythi—"

"I'll remember that," she said, smiling proudly.

He gave her a small smile in return.

"Okay, well, I should let you get settled in. You know where I am if you need me. Here's your key."

He took it, and in a flash, she was gone.

-

He made a few quick calls – to California, Liz, Luke; thankfully, none of them answered. He left his new address on their machines, wanting to give Todd as small a window as possible to mess with his mail. Then, he headed to the main courier office to pick up his paycheck.

"Hey Jess," the secretary greeted him as soon as he walked in the door. He wasn't always the most perceptive when it came to women, but Amy was less than subtle. "You look hot," she commented. Case in point.

He offered no reaction.

"Where'd you get that jacket?" she asked, looking him up and down.

"I stole it off the dead guy down the block."

"Really? It's hot."

He smirked. "Can I get my paycheck?"

She batted her eyelashes and grinned. "What are you willing to do for it?"

"Give the man his paycheck, Amy," Roger ordered from behind her.

She looked past Jess at the taller, black man who'd just walked in the door. "Hey Roger! You look hot."

"So do you," he said mechanically. "Now pay up."

She turned her eyes to Jess. "See, he compliments me. You could learn something from Roger." She handed over his paycheck.

"I'll sign up for classes," Jess replied, slipping it into his back pocket.

"Oh," Amy chirped, passing over Roger's paycheck as well. "Brazer is pissed at you."

"Me?" Roger asked.

"Jess."

"Mr. Reliable? How'd that happen?"

"He broke a sculpture," Amy explained.

"Hey," Jess protested. "I did not break that sculpture!"

She shrugged. "Don't shoot the messenger." Then, realizing what she'd said, she giggled. "Or the secretary."

Roger looked confused. "Huh?"

"You're the messengers, silly. Get it. I'm the secretary."

Jess rolled his eyes and started for the door.

"Wait, Jess, Brazer wanted to see you."

Jess hesitated. Another lecture was the last thing he needed. He glanced at the door to his boss's office, a pained look on his face.

Feeling charitable, Amy grinned. "Go on. Fast. I'll tell him you got a delivery call."

Jess met her eyes and headed out the door.

"But you owe me!" she called after him. "I accept Visa, Mastercard, or a nice screw in the alley."

Jess shook his head and kept walking.

"Did you really just say that?" Roger asked.

She shrugged. "I was kidding."

"Uh-huh."

"Hey, you think I work here for the pay? You boys are hot. A girl's gotta try," she explained. Then, running her gaze up Roger's arm to his face, she smiled, Jess already forgotten. "You need any favors?"

-

Jess drove to a nearby café and finding an empty table, sat down to read until a call came in. As he pulled the paperback book out, his check slid out as well. He opened it and peered inside. _Sonofabitch_, he muttered. Blazer had withheld 150 from his paycheck to pay for the sculpture. He ran a hand through his hair and glanced around. A part of him wanted to go back to the art gallery and give that receptionist a piece of his mind, but the other part was too tired to bother. He folded the check in half again and returned it to his pocket. Then, he took a deep breath and leaned back in the chair, choosing to read instead.


	3. the truth of things

**these**** mad windows**

**chapter**** 3: the truth of things**

**_Disclaimer_**_: Still don't own anything. Still wish I did. Even something small… like a CD-ROM drive that doesn't pop open whenever I jostle the laptop. Ooh, or a bigger television. Or… a new wardrobe. But Gilmore Girls? Nah, no thanks. It's on its way out. –wink-_

**_A/N_**_: Sorry it took so long for me to update this fic. I was uninspired. However, as it turns out, "Chasing Aphrodite" is even more uninspiring, so I picked the lesser of the evils. Enjoy, and review. -Becka_

It was late that night when Jess's shift finally ended. Pulling up in front of the brownstone, he turned off the engine and rested his face in his hands. He was fucking exhausted. Just the idea of making it up the stairs to his apartment seemed very unrealistic. With a deep sigh, he reluctantly pushed the door open and got out. Slamming the door shut, he walked around the car and headed towards the apartment's entrance. He was inside and halfway up the stairs when his phone rang.

"Fuck," he cursed under his breath, pulling it out of his pocket to look. Seeing Brazer's number, he jerked his head irritably. "Fuck, fuck, _fuck_!" he repeated before clicking it on and raising it to his ear. "Mariano," he spat, unable to keep the annoyance out of his voice.

"I'm sorry, Jess," Amy immediately apologized. "I know your shift is over, but these people specifically requested you."

"You've got to be kidding me," Jess muttered under his breath.

"I tried to tell them that Roger was much better than you, but they weren't having it."

"Who needs a package at ten at night?" Jess asked rhetorically. "Like it can't wait until fucking morning?"

"I'm sorry," Amy apologized again. "They insisted."

Jess sighed and leaned his back against the stairwell wall, wondering for a moment if this job was really worth the aggravation. "Where is it?" he asked, pushing his tired body off the wall and heading back down the stairs.

"Um," Amy hesitated, flipping through her papers. "Fourth and Seventh."

Jess froze. "You're kidding?"

"I don't think so," Amy replied. She checked again. "No, it's definitely Fourth and Seventh."

Clenching his jaw, Jess shook his head and started down the stairs again. "Thanks, Amy," he said sarcastically, clicking the phone shut before she had a chance to respond.

-

His anger and irritation rose exponentially with each block he passed. By the time he pulled up in front of the art gallery, he could hardly see straight. Twisting the key forcefully, he turned off the engine and got out. He was about to slam the car door shut when he stopped himself. He'd been around enough out-of-control men to know it wasn't an answer to anything. He took a long breath, letting the autumn air chill his lungs. Then, in control at the very least, he headed into the gallery. When he rounded the corner at the end of the hall, he noticed the receptionist's area was empty. Reaching the desk, he looked around. Nothing. He didn't have time for this. He smacked his fist on the tiny, gold bell near the far end of the desk and waited.

A moment later, Eva appeared through a nearby doorway but stopped in her tracks when she saw the look on his face. "Hi," she said hesitantly.

He gave her an irritated look. "I'm here for a package."

"Right, sorry," she apologized, hurrying over to the desk. Absently, he noticed she seemed off today. Or, at least, as much as he could tell after only one previous meeting.

She retrieved a package from the shelf behind the desk and handed it to him across the counter. When he reached out to take it, she met his eyes. "I didn't tell them your name."

Taking the package, he frowned at her but didn't say anything.

"I didn't," she repeated. "They got it off the pick-up order. I told them I broke it."

"Sure, you did," Jess sarcastically replied.

"Do you want to see my paycheck?" she asked, reaching for her purse. "I can prove it. They withheld, like, half of it, which is ridiculous. That sculpture was awful. No one would pay a cent for it." Finding the pay stub, she unfolded it and held it out towards him.

He didn't move.

"Look at it," she urged, shaking it in the air.

Jess rolled his eyes and took the stub with his free hand. Sure enough, they'd withheld half of her paycheck, which was considerably more than Brazer had taken from his. He handed it back to her. "Fine, whatever," he shrugged. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out the notebook. "Can you just sign?"

"I almost got fired," she added.

"You actually broke it," Jess reminded her.

"Okay, true, but I did the artist a favor."

"Yeah, well, take it up with him." He held the notebook out again. "I really need you to sign this."

"You're still mad."

"It's ten-thirty, and I'm standing in a fucking art gallery," Jess said, by way of explanation.

Eva narrowed her eyes at him and took the notebook. "You could be a little more grateful," she stated as she signed her name.

"You could be a little less clumsy," he retorted.

Her eyes shot up to look at him, and she shoved the notebook at him. "You're an asshole."

"Thanks," he nodded. "Just do me a favor. Pick Roger next time."

She stared at him for a moment longer. Then, she sat down at the desk and turned her eyes to the computer screen.

Without another word, he headed down the hallway and out the door.

-

Once he got outside, he scowled and looked down at the package, checking the delivery address. He read it twice, not sure whether to smirk or throw the box at the ground. Deciding on anger over amusement, he stormed back into the gallery, not breaking stride until he reached the desk.

"What the hell is this?" he asked, dropping the package on the counter.

Eva looked up at him. "What?"

"You sent this package to yourself," he stated, stabbing his finger at the address label.

A small smile started to creep across her lips.

"I'm glad you find this so amusing," Jess said, his body tensing.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, standing up. "I wanted a chance to explain, and we didn't actually have any packages to send."

He just stared at her.

"If I'd known you were such a jerk, I wouldn't have bothered," she added.

His eyes darkened, and his lips formed a straight line.

"I thought you had a sense of humor," she explained.

Irritation rising, he turned and headed for the door.

"Jess," she called out, hurrying around the desk.

He didn't know why, but he stopped and turned to look at her.

She paused just past the desk. "Can I buy you a drink sometime?"

He blinked, taken by surprise.

"I mean, to apologize for my clumsiness. I'll even promise not to spill anything on you," she teased.

"Are you asking me out?"

"No," she blurted, flustered. Then, after a brief pause, she admitted, "Yeah, okay. Maybe."

He smirked, impressed by her honesty. "Okay."

"Okay, what?"

He shrugged. "A drink is the least you can do."

"Yeah? Okay," she smiled. "I'll call you."

He gave her a small nod and left.

Once he was gone, Eva stared at the spot where he'd been standing, slightly confused. Then, with a grin, she went back to work.


End file.
